The Unholy Trinity
by The Iman Lestrange
Summary: Ch. 3. Three sisters, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa. A series of glimpses into their lives, from birth to death, proving that it is our choices that indeed determined who we are. Inspired by LiveJournal's FanFic 100.
1. one: beginnings

**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

(**Author's Note**: Okay, a bit of an introduction in order for this, because while this adheres to canon, there has had to be one or two significant changes in order to make it a more coherent, neater canon.

The biggest and most obvious one will be that I've changed the sisters' birthdates. I find that canon – which is all seven novels – always trumps quasi-canon – which would be extra information given by Rowling, such as her interviews, the family trees of the Blacks, the Malfoys, and the Weasleys, etc. Now, that doesn't mean I ignore those things, it just means where it conflicts with what is in the books, I change it so that it _concurs_ with what is in the books.

So, where Bella was stated as having been born in 1951 on the Black family tree, in order to make it concur with Sirius said about Snape having been in "a gang of Slytherins that nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters", with the Lestranges as a part of this gang – who he said as being "a married couple in Azkaban" – I bumped her birthdate down two years. Now, she was born in 1953, which makes her six to seven years older than Sirius. I also gave her an autumn birthday, so that she would have been a seventh-year, when Sirius and Snape, who were being stated in canon as having been born in 1960, were first-years. Likewise, where Andromeda probably would have been born in 1952 at the earliest and 1954 at the latest, per the Black family tree, her birthdate is now 1955, and Narcissa's is 1957.

In all honesty, the whole Black family tree is screwy, so I have altered almost all the dates so that they make sense with what Rowling has said about wizards living longer than Muggles and what Rowling has said about the Black family in canon. A link to the altered family tree can be found on my profile, as well as the essay – by Red Hen – that inspired it.

Other than that, everything else can be considered the bits of canon that aren't seen, or are heavily implied by canon itself.

Now, before the author's note is longer than the actual story, I present to you chapter one – "Beginnings"!)

* * *

**Chapter Summary**: The births of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.  
**Prompt**: 1. Beginnings

* * *

i. beginnings

**30 October 1953**

"We shall name her Bellatrix," declared Cygnus Black, staring down at the tightly wrapped bundle in his arms. "Bellatrix Walburga Rosier Black."

On the bed, her complexion pale and an air of utter exhaustion around her, Druella Black looked as though she wanted to object to naming her first-born daughter after her sister-in-law. It was no secret that Walburga and Druella were not the best of friends, but for the sake of propriety, their distaste for one another never left the walls of the Black home.

Cygnus glanced over at his young wife, his mercurial grey eyes staring intensely into her brilliant, royal blue eyes.

"It is a fitting name for her, don't you agree?"

Druella gave a soft and minute sigh, and reached up, brushing away lock of deep blonde hair. She knew that she could speak the truth with her husband, tell him that she hated the idea of her daughter being any more closely associated with Walburga than possible, and he would listen. Unlike most pureblood husbands, Cygnus recognized the thoughts, wants, and feelings of his wife, he valued her input and concerns. He knew that he would take to heart her feelings on the matter of naming their daughter, and would opt for a different name.

But, she also knew that it would gain her no favor in the eyes of the rest of the family, specifically her father-in-law, Pollux. It was the not-so-secret opinion of the Blacks that Pollux's younger heir had made a less than ideal choice in making a Rosier his bride, for there were several names upon the Rosier family tree that were – in the eyes of the Blacks – of _questionable_ origin. Their blood was pure, yes, but purity was not all that was looked for in a bride of the House of Black. Proper lineage mattered as well. After all, the Weasleys were purebloods – but, _Cedrella_ was no longer mentioned in polite company, after having made her shameful marriage to Septimus Weasley, and birthing three sons by him.

However, Cygnus was in love, his wife was an incomparable beauty, and she came from a decent lineage and name. For Cygnus, that was all that truly mattered. Not to mention, it was Alphard that was the heir apparent – he was the one who was expected to take a bride of perfection and give Pollux's line heirs, not Cygnus. He knew that if something happened to his adventurous brother, he would become the heir apparent, and would suddenly regret having begat a daughter first.

But for now, that wasn't a concern.

Alphard was still young, he still had time to make the perfect time to make the perfect marriage and have sons. Cygnus could enjoy himself, his marriage, his wife, and his daughter. He could enjoy his life.

Cygnus prompted his wife for an answer. "Well, Dru. Do you agree, or not?"

"It is a fitting name for her, Cygnus," agreed Druella, after a brief pause and with a slightly strained smile. "A fitting name for a daughter of the House of Black, and a fitting name for a daughter of the House of Rosier."

Cygnus gave his wife a rare smile. "Excellent. Now, you should truly try and get a bit of sleep. The family will arrive in the morning, and the celebrations will begin."

Druella nodded, watching as Cygnus called for a house-elf to take tiny Bellatrix to the nursery, and then gracefully dropped a kiss to her parched lips. "Good night, my love," she murmured, and settled down into sleep.

One would need to be constantly on their toes in the midst of a Black family gathering – and that went double for the celebrations of the Great Sabbat of Samhain, which was richly heightened by the birth of a healthy and beautiful, pureblooded child to the line.

* * *

**22 December 1955**

"I do believe that this is the best Yule present that I have received thus far," remarked Cygnus, as he sat mystified by his wife's bedside, completely in awe of the sight of her nursing their newborn daughter. "Yet another beautiful, healthy pureblood daughter is possibly one of the best gift I could have received from the Goddess."

Druella gently smoothed back the downy, copper brown hair of the daughter she held in her arms. "She is the best Yule gift I've ever gotten in my life. Have you thought of a name for her?"

Cygnus nodded. "Andromeda. Andromeda Druella Rosier Black."

At this, Druella beamed, a sight that was even rarer than her husband smiling. While her daughter did not look as much like a Rosier as she would have liked to her to have, she did not look as much like a Black as she feared she would. Instead, little Andromeda – as she had been newly declared – had all the signs of a compromise between her linage.

Her soft, copper brown hair was what apparently resulted from the traditional raven black hair of the Blacks and the classic golden blonde hair of the Rosiers clashing; her bright, blue-grey eyes were a mix between the pale eyes of the Blacks and the ocean-blue eyes of the Rosiers; and somehow, the sharp, chiseled features of the Blacks and the softer, rounder features of the Rosiers had melted into a combination of curves and angles that was incredibly pleasing to the eyes. And, now that Cygnus had come up with a name, her little Andromeda was as much a Rosier as she was a Black.

That was not something that could be said for her older daughter. Though the child was only two, Bellatrix was a Black right down to her very core, especially in her looks. One would almost think that Druella hadn't a hand in birthing her, for there was nothing Rosier about the child. There were rare times when the frigidity the toddler displayed could be attributed to the natural iciness of a Rosier, but those moments were so few and far between, they hardly counted.

The Blacks were a family full of zeal and passion, and though it was usually declared as childish hyperactivity because she was so young, Druella had no doubt that Bellatrix's spirit and passion was wholly and fully that of a Black.

With a sigh, Druella once again brushed her fingers across the few locks of hair that Andromeda had. Now that they had two daughters, Cygnus would surely start pushing for a son. Especially considering that Alphard looked no closer to assuming his duties as heir apparent and making a good marriage, any more than he did two years ago, when Bellatrix was born. She would have to settle for Andromeda being her Rosier child, for she knew that there was no way it would go over well with even Cygnus if an heir to the House of Black were to turn out to be nothing less than a Black to his very core.

"Is there something on your mind, my love?" murmured Cygnus, studying her closely with his storm-grey eyes.

Druella looked away from her now-slumbering daughter, and met her husband's eyes.

As always, Cygnus looked genuinely interested in her welfare, her thoughts, and her feelings. He looked as he wanted to know what was bothering her, and would honestly listened. Druella felt such a rush of love and warmth towards her husband, that it startled her. She had known that she had made an excellent marriage, in becoming the bride of a son of the House of Black. But, until this moment, she wasn't aware of how _good_ her marriage truly was. She could name any one of her contemporaries who had lackluster husbands, husbands who demanded two sons, and grudgingly allowed her a daughter. Husbands who cared not how they were feeling or what they thought, only caring that they were being good ladies of the manor and rearing their sons and daughters to be proper purebloods.

But, not her. She had been blessed with the fortune of having a husband who loved her, who genuinely cared for her.

And now, she was blessed with two daughters – one who satisfied her Black relatives, and the other who would satisfy her Rosier relatives.

Druella smiled, and said, with a touch more honesty than before, "No, darling, nothing."

Cygnus returned her smile. "I'm pleased. Now, as it seems Miss Andromeda is finished with her evening meal, I shall have the house-elves take her to the nursery. I daresay that you'll want to get enough rest to be able to somewhat participate in the rest of the Yule festivities."

Dropping a kiss onto the head of her newest – and, by far, favorite – daughter, Druella allowed her husband to take their daughter from her arms. As she drifted into sleep, for the first time in years, she slept with a smile on her face.

* * *

**24 March 1957**

"It seems that our children were fated to be born before, during, or after a Sabbat, weren't they, darling?" said Druella, an anxious, almost hysterical edge to her tone, though she tried to give off the air of casualty. "Bellatrix was born on the eve of Samhain, Meda was born in the middle of Yule, and – "

"Rigel, our _son_, was supposed to be born on the day after Ostara." Cygnus hissed from where he stood staring unseeingly out of the window. His voice was colder than frostbite, sharper than shattering glass, as he continued, "Instead, we have a _daughter_ born on the day after Ostara."

"Cygnus, I – "

"What happened, Druella?" demanded Cygnus, spinning away from the window to face her. The burning anger in his eyes contrasted sharply with the pale, almost colorless shade of great that his eyes were. Druella could not help but wince, for it was only when he was displeased with her – which was a rarity in and of itself – did he call her by her proper name. "You said that you were carrying a _boy_! You swore that the next child you birthed was going to be a boy! What happened? Why do you hold a _girl_in your arms now, as opposed to a boy?"

Helplessly, Druella looked down at the child in her arms.

It was certainly not the moment for it, but Druella found herself completely entranced by the small creature she held in her arms. After two daughters – one that was as much as Black as could have ever been created, and the other who was beginning to look more and more like a Black, for all of her Rosier traits – Druella could not help but be amazed by the fact that the child she held in her arms was completely and unquestioningly Rosier. With her soft wisps of golden blonde hair, her rosy cheeks, and the ocean-blue eyes that Druella had glimpsed in the few moments they had been opened, there was no denying that the daughter she held was of the Rosier line.

If it wasn't for the fact this girl-child was not supposed to be here, and her husband was completely distraught over this fact, Druella would have been content to stare at her daughter forever.

"Well, Druella." Cygnus growled. "_What happened_?"

"I – I don't know, Cygnus. I was certain that I was carrying a boy this time." At the look on Cygnus's face, Druella added, that touch of hysteria edging her voice again, "Truly, Cygnus. I took the proper potions, I stayed away from the improper magic – why, I even took to drinking that herbal tea everyday at daybreak, noon, sunset, and midnight. I did everything that everyone recommended. I was so _sure_, Cygnus."

Cygnus sneered, an action that wasn't unusual from him, but was rarely directed at his wife. "And yet, you hold a girl."

"I'm sorry, Cygnus!" beseeched Druella, hating herself – for birthing a daughter, displeasing her husband, and showing so much emotion because of it.

"Apologies will not fix this, Druella!" roared Cygnus, his magic swelling up around him so fiercely and powerfully that the windows rattled in their panes. "It will not fix the fact that you have birthed a _girl_ in the place of my _heir_!"

The infant girl, who had been sleeping in the warmth of her mother's embrace, was horribly startled by her father's sudden yell. A wail almost as miserable and loud as the one her mother wanted to emit erupted from her mouth, and she began to squirm. Druella jostled her slightly in an attempt to quiet her, but was for the most part, unconcerned with her. She was instead concerned with making this horrid situation better. She was concerned with soothing her husband's anger and redeeming herself in the eyes of the Black family.

"But, Cygnus, all is not lost! We – we can try again! I'm certain that next time – "

"There will not be a next time, Druella." Cygnus cut through her words, his voice quiet, serious, and icier than anything any Rosier could have managed, even on their best days. "This was our last chance, and you completely destroyed it."

Druella looked down at her daughter again. She had counted for herself that the tiny baby had ten fingers, ten toes, a nose, two eyes, and a mouth. There wasn't anyway to tell how much magic the child had yet, but Druella was certain that her daughter was a powerful witch; the thought of her being anything less – or, the Goddess forbid, a _Squib_ – was too unbearable to acknowledge.

However, there was a tiny warning bell that had been ringing within her, a deep, wild feeling that something was not right. It had been there ever since the Healer had announced that it was a girl, and Druella had attributed it to that. But, now, she wasn't so sure. There was something in Cygnus's face that said otherwise.

"What do you mean?" said Druella, holding her daughter closer. "What are you saying?"

"Healer Mulciber said that there were complications during birth." Cygnus replied, tightly. "He said that because of the way your daughter entered the birth canal, she had to – well, I'm not completely certain of all the medical terminology she used, or what it meant. But in short, she had to remove your womb, and therefore, you are unable to have any more children."

The news slammed into Druella harder than the Hogwarts Express.

Unable to have more children?

She was _barren_?

The world around her seemed to dip and tilt dangerously, and she squeezed the bundle to her chest tightly. Ever since she was a child, she had been told that as a pureblood woman, her lot in life was to bear her husband sons and daughters, to rear her children in the traditional ways of purebloods – to be a mother to her husband's children, to be a mother to the next generation of purebloods. To simply be a _mother_. And, though she now had three children, the fact that the possibility of future children – specifically, her husband's _sons_ – was now gone forever…

It was too much to bear at the moment.

"Cygnus, I…I am…" Druella tried to make the words come, tried to apologize for her failure a woman and a pureblood witch, but they wouldn't. Instead, a tortured moan that matched the wailing of the unintended daughter in her arms escaped her lips, and she felt the shameful burn of tears at her eyes.

This day was supposed to be so full of joy. Today was supposed to be the day that she bested her vile sister-in-law once and for all by carrying a boy to full term and giving birth to the first Black heir of the new generation. Today was supposed to be the day that she gained the ultimate approval of her in-laws and the rest of the Blacks, whom had looked down their slender noses at her for the past four years for having birth daughters instead of sons. Today was supposed to be the day that she gave her husband the ultimate gift, a son to carry on his name.

But, from the moment she had felt the labor pains three nights ago, nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to.

Instead of a son, she would forever find herself beneath Walburga's contempt for birthing nothing but daughters to her husband's name. Instead of approval, her husband's family would now openly voice their opinions on the fact that Cygnus's "Rosier bride" had gave him nothing but daughters, and Pollux would have no reason to be civil or warm towards her, now that his line had no hope of continuing. Instead of giving Cygnus the ultimate gift, she had given him the ultimate insult – a daughter, who would the last of his line, and would never carry on his name.

The only thing that kept her from allowing her tears from falling was the sight of her daughter. Despite the fact that her daughter was not supposed to be here, Druella could not find it in herself to loathe the child like everyone else was sure to. No, the failure was hers, and therefore, the hatred and dislike should be directed towards her. Her daughter, her incredibly beautiful, incredibly perfect, incredibly _Rosier_ daughter would not have to bear the brunt of the disappointment and anger her birth had brought about.

Distantly, through the haze of disappointment, sorrow, and self-hatred, Druella remembered that they had not named their daughter. Keeping her eyes locked on the child's beautiful, beautiful face, Druella distantly let her husband know this.

Druella didn't know what hurt worse – what he said, or the way he said it without the barest trace of emotion. "I don't care what you name her, Druella. I have to go and inform Father and Mother, as well as the girls, know…what has happened."

The sound of the door snapping shut, sharply, was distant background noise, as Druella continued to stare into the face of her daughter. Her daughter who she was delegated to name. While she did not mind the names her two older daughter had been given, for they were traditional of all born Blacks, she was sorely disappointed that only Andromeda bore a name that testified to her Rosier lineage. It would be different with this daughter. This daughter looked so much like a Rosier, it was natural that she have a Rosier name.

A traditional Black name would not be needed for a daughter who would not be welcomed because of tradition by the Black family.

"My beautiful, beautiful Narcissa Eleanor Rosier Black." Druella murmured, gently trailing her finger down the side of Narcissa's face. "You were intended to be a son, but your beauty would not be worn well by any Black heir. My beautiful, beautiful daughter…"

As long as Druella stared into the face of her beautiful Narcissa, she would not have to think of the startling, unexpected turn her life had taken because of her birth.

* * *

(**Author's Note**: An overwhelming amount of Cygnus/Druella, but this is only because the girls themselves are newborns, and thus, unable to have true parts. Every other chapter henceforth with be in third-person limited of each of the three sisters, as stated in the chapter summaries.

Leave me a review, and tell me what you thought!)


	2. twelve: orange

**Chapter Summary:** In which oranges are a must or Narcissa makes a fuss.  
**Prompt:** 12. Orange

* * *

**xii**. _orange_

"I beg your pardon?"

"I do not recall that I stuttered."

"What do you mean _these are not the proper oranges_?"

One would have thought that after six months of watching his wife become wider in the waist and thinner on patience, Lucius would know by now that questioning a pregnant witch she asked him to do something would not have been advised by even the wisest of wizards. However, as she regarded him with narrow ice-blue eyes and a sudden firmness of her delicate lips, Narcissa came to realize that Lucius had yet to grasp this well-known fact. She took a deep breath and reminded herself of all the reason she loved him. It was either that, or hexing him six ways from Sunday.

"I asked you to fetch me Mandarin oranges, Lucius." Narcissa's words were slow and measured, a testament of how hot her temper burned under the surface. "Not _tangerines_. There is a difference."

Lucius arched a pale eyebrow as he sat the crystal dish filled with perfectly sliced oranges on the table with a sharp smack. "And what, pray tell, would that difference be? I certainly see no concise difference."

"Tangerines are less sour, less tart than oranges, smaller than oranges. Not to mention, tangerines and oranges are two completely different fruits. I'm certain that you've been catered to by house-elves all of your life, love, but even you can tell the difference between fruits, no?" Narcissa got a slight bit of satisfaction out watching her husband's mouth tighten with agitation. If there was one thing in the world that Lucius could not stand, it was being patronized. Narcissa knew this better than anyone. However, at the moment, she could care less. "Now that you are aware of the 'concise difference', get me my Mandarin oranges."

Lucius opened his mouth slightly, as though to argue, but thought better once Narcissa arched a slender blonde eyebrow dangerously. With a curt nod, he picked up the dish and took it with him as he disappeared through the open balcony doors. Ten minutes later, he returned, this time carrying a dish of sliced oranges that looked to be the right ones. She would reserve judgment, though, until she tasted them with her own mouth.

"Here you are, dear. Your Mandarin oranges."

Narcissa delicately plucked one from the dish, and took a bite off of the tip, relishing the incredibly sweet taste in her craving mouth –

"Oh, for the sake of magic, Lucius!"

"What now?" Lucius had just sat down in the wicker chair across from her, apparently having believed he had successfully granted his wife's wishes.

"Valencia oranges? How in the world did you come to get Valencia oranges out of Mandarin oranges?" Narcissa demanded. She contemptuously slung the half-bitten slice of orange pack in the dish, glaring at her husband. "I suppose that if I want anything done properly, I will have to get it done myself!"

She made to stand, but Lucius leapt from his own chair, and forestalled her attempt with a firm hand on her shoulder.

"You most certainly will not. The entire reason you are sitting out here is because the Healers cautioned you about overexertion. I have made a point to be home more often for this very reason, and while I am here, you will not lift a finger. Even when I'm not here, you shouldn't be lifting a finger." Lucius pressed upon her shoulder more insistently, until she sat back down completely. He straightened, and reached for the bowl, his increasing agitation failing to be totally hidden under his tender gaze. "Now, I will get your twice-damned oranges for you, so long as you remain sitting as your supposed to be."

"I will." Narcissa agreed, placing her hand over her steadily swelling belly. "So long as you get me the correct oranges this time around."

Lucius said nothing as he once again ventured through the open French doors, though he dearly looked as though he wanted to. Narcissa patiently waited for the entire twenty minutes it took Lucius to return, basking in the gentle, early spring sunlight and enjoying the pleasantly cool breeze about her loose, golden blonde curls. When he sat the dish down in front of her this time, he remained standing, as though he fully expected to have to make another run to the kitchens.

But, when Narcissa tentatively bit into the fresh batch of oranges, her entire body seemed to relax as she savoured the tangy, tart taste of her long-awaited Mandarin oranges. She beamed at her husband, who smiled back in relief that his wife was placated, and gently pushed the dish across the table towards him.

"Would you care for an orange, love?"


	3. fortytwo: triangle

**Summary**: In which Andromeda and Narcissa find themselves at odd over one Malfoy heir.  
**Prompt**: 42. Triangle

**xxxxii**. _triangle_

**April 1971**

BANG!

The sound of the oaken door crashing open was so sudden and unexpected, Andromeda flinched terribly, smearing a thick line of ink across the Transfiguration essay she was working on and upsetting her ink bottle. Two of her roommates, Marguerite and Persephone, apparently hadn't been expecting it either, for they were similarly startled; Marguerite actually squeaked in fright. With a scowl clouding her beautiful face, Andromeda turned away from the desk to look at the figure in the doorway, and was shocked to see that it was Cissy.

A very furious Cissy, if the curling sneer and dangerous sparkle in her sapphire eyes was anything to go by.

Andromeda blinked in shock, at the sight of her normally cool and composed sister looking so openly angry. "Cissy, what in the name – "

"Out!" Cissy snarled at Marguerite and Persephone. "Now!"

"Now, you wait just one moment, Narcissa. This is our dormitory, and you can't simply burst in here and order us out!" Persephone declared, tilting her rounded chin up in the air haughtily.

"I can and I will." Cissy glared at the redheaded sixth-year so viciously, Andromeda was still quite surprised that she hadn't dropped dead where she stood. "Now, get out!"

Persephone looked to open her mouth to argue again, but Andromeda forestalled her. "Just leave, Persephone. You can come back in an hour or so."

The pecking order in the dormitory had long since been established, and although she looked highly displeased about it, Persephone beckoned to a wide-eyed Marguerite, and the two girls carefully scurried around a still glaring Cissy. They had barely made it over the threshold before Cissy slammed the door shut behind them as viciously as she had opened it.

"I need to talk to you." Cissy hissed, stalking over to where Andromeda sat. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest in a position that Andromeda quite recognized, and a slight bit of unease settled in her chest. Whatever it was that Cissy was up in arms about, it must be something big.

"Alright, then." Andromeda agreed, cautiously. "About what?"

"How dare you! How dare you do this to me!"

Andromeda wrinkled her pert nose in confusion. "Do what? I have no idea what you're talking about, Cissy."

"Yes, you do, you backstabbing bitch!" Cissy snarled.

"I beg your pardon?" Andromeda was standing herself now, her blue-grey eyes narrowing with frosty anger at the insult. "I assure you that I have no idea what you are talking about, and before I hex you into next week for daring to call me outside of my name, I will give you the chance to explain yourself."

Cissy eyed the slender apple wand with a touch of apprehension. She could recall only three times previously when Andromeda had drawn her wand against her, and though she had never actually hexed her, Cissy knew full and well that Andromeda was quite capable of formidable spell-work. Bella herself could attest to that, for all the other times that Andromeda drawn her wand against her sisters, it had been against Bella.

However, no matter the risk of being on the receiving end of a rather nasty hex, Cissy refused to back down. With an icy glare to perfectly match the one Andromeda was giving her, Cissy drew herself her full height – which was still several centimeters shorter than Andromeda, even in her fashionable high-heeled boots –and looked her older sister square in the eye.

"Lucius Malfoy. Maryse Rookwood told me that he asked you to accompany him to Grandmother Rosier's annual Yule Ball – and you said _yes_!"

Andromeda blinked, her anger giving away to surprise. _This_ was what had Cissy so uncharacteristically furious? Her willingness to accompany Lucius to a bloody _ball_? If she hadn't known that doing so would have only made Cissy even angrier, Andromeda would have laughed out loud.

Of all things to be furious over! In all honesty, she had been expecting something else behind her younger sister's fury – perhaps a renewed sense of jealousy of Bella having made her the maid of honor in her upcoming wedding to Rodolphus at the end of the month? Or, maybe their parents refusal to send her to Beauxbatons at the beginning of the term, as she requested? Hell, Andromeda would have even expected Cissy to be furious over Grandmother Black bequeathing all of her priceless jewels and antique diamond tiara to her instead of Cissy, who had admired them since she was a child.

But, to be furious over a _boy_? The same boy that she had shown a healthy amount of indifference towards whenever he previously asked her to join him in Hogsmeade or made a point to greet her specifically in the common room?

Andromeda thought she was being ridiculous, and said as much.

"Of course I said yes! Lucius and I have been getting along quite splendidly lately, and it is only natural that he asked me to Grandmother's ball." Andromeda tilted her chin smugly, as she added, "Besides, I even think he fancies me."

Cissy's eyes narrowed in further fury at this declaration. "I don't care if he worships the ground you walk on. I want you to rescind his invitation."

Andromeda arched a slender eyebrow. "Surely you jest?"

"I mean it, Meda. Tell him you don't want to go with him, and suggest that he ask me instead."

This time, Andromeda did laugh. "I do believe that you've been spending entirely too much time amongst your cosmetic potions, and the fumes have gone to your head. Are you honestly asking me to rescind an invitation from a boy – a boy who I happen to fancy – in your favor?"

"Yes, I am. Lucius Malfoy fancies me, and now that I am old enough to attend to be allowed to attend balls, I want to be on his arm. You have any other number of suitors lined up to take you, so it shouldn't matter if you let Lucius take me instead."

Andromeda simply couldn't believe her ears.

As the youngest and most adorable Black daughter, Cissy had always effortlessly gotten her way when it came to something she wanted. One look from those glowing sapphire eyes in combination with a perfect pout of her rosy lips would melt even the coldest heart, and everyone scrambled to put a smile on her cherubic face.

And, everyone was guilty of it: Father couldn't bear to deny his precious baby girl anything; Mother favored her above her two older daughters because she understood her far better than she ever could the commanding Bella and the spirited Andromeda; Grandfather and Grandmother Rosier indulged their youngest granddaughter because she looked the most like a Rosier; Grandfather and Grandmother Black spoiled her rotten for being more willing than Bella or Andromeda to adopt all the traditions and customs of a proper pureblood lady; Bella gave her anything she wanted, so long as she did whatever she said; and even Andromeda herself was guilty of allowing Cissy's every whim to be fulfilled in order to forestall the inevitable sparkle of tears that came about whenever she was told no.

However, as of late, Andromeda found that where Cissy had once been an adorable young child who was willing to worship you, should you indulge her needs, she was now becoming an aloof young woman who could be downright nasty when the tables were turned against her. She didn't like this new Cissy one bit.

Andromeda arched a slender copper brown eyebrow, and stared down her nose at her sister. "No, Narcissa."

Cissy blinked. "What?"

"I said no. As in, I refuse. It isn't going to happen. Deepest apologies, love, try again next time – "

"I know what it means!"

"Then, act like it." Andromeda coolly turned away from Cissy, and sat back down at her desk, intent on holding her ground. "Now, if you don't mind, I would rather like to finish this Transfiguration essay before dinner, since I have prefect duties."

For several moments, there was nothing but silence within the dormitory. Andromeda actually thought that Cissy had left, until she heard a soft and delicate noise that was too prim to be called a scoff, but too harsh to be called a sigh. She looked over her shoulder slightly, and observed Cissy from the corner of her eye. The younger Slytherin girl continued to stand with her arms folded over her chest, but where there was once a burning look of determination, there was now a different gleam in her eye – a gleam that Andromeda couldn't quite place, nor was she exactly comfortable with.

"Well, then," Cissy said, her voice once again resembling the soft and sophisticated cadence that could only be possessed by a witch of pureblood nobility. "I suppose that if that is your final answer, then I will simply have to go along with it."

"It is," Andromeda confirmed.

"I see. Well, good evening, Andromeda."

In stark difference to her entrance, Cissy's leaving was quiet and subdued, so much so that Andromeda had to glance over her shoulder to make certain the younger girl was gone. She couldn't help a wince, as Cissy's parting words rang in her ears.

Cissy and Bella only called her Andromeda when they were displeased with her. Though that seemed to be more and more often these days, it never failed to hurt when it happened. But, she refused to back down. Cissy needed to learn that while being a Black and a pureblood got her a free ticket in more than one area, it would not get her everything – especially when it came to getting something from another Black.

Andromeda bent over her essay again, and set to work.

Narcissa wouldn't get her way this time.


End file.
